


Invitations

by Gremkt



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Carver and Hawke are still fighting over certain expedition and order joining decisions :(, F/M, First Kiss, Flirting, Kinda, Semi-Public Sex, Templar Carver Hawke, messy Hawke family dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28476462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gremkt/pseuds/Gremkt
Summary: In an attempt to avoid a night at the Hanged Man with fellow recruits, Carver offers to accompany Isabela to the Docks to collect payment for a job. But when flirting and feelings boil over, the night doesn’t end how either of them expect.
Relationships: Carver Hawke/Isabela
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	Invitations

The Hanged Man was the last place Carver wanted to be. It was a place that felt like it belonged to somebody else, another life. Every inch of the place was filled with his brother, with memories and feelings and anticipation of the future, even when Garrett wasn’t there.

It was hard to be in the place without hearing at least one person talking about Hawke and his achievements, as though he was the only person involved in making them happen. Not that Carver cared, of course. If Garrett wanted to claim all the glory for himself, that was his choice.

It wasn’t anything new. 

But of course, the one night he had out of the Gallows, the other recruits had wanted to go to the Tavern. Claimed it felt like going home, given the way they both came from Lowtown originally. Carver suspected more than anything that they just wanted a place with low standards to drink away from their supervisors and maybe find some women to spend their night with. 

And so he found himself trudging the path to the familiar building, praying to the Maker that perhaps tonight, Garrett wouldn’t be there. Or if he was, maybe he wouldn’t have to talk to him tonight. 

Stubborn ass probably wouldn’t talk to him anyway, even if Carver tried. 

“Come on, Hawke, hurry up,” one of his fellow Templar recruits called back to him and Carver sighed deeply at the name. He hadn’t minded being called Hawke in the army but now it always just felt like a reminder of the losses there, or a comparison to his brother, the famous heroic nobleman known across the city, the Hawke brother everyone knew and loved. 

“Don’t call him that,” the other recruit said, elbowing his friend. “He hates being called that.” 

The acknowledgment was a small thing but one he appreciated.

“Fucking pox stricken son of a bitch” somebody swore from around the corner and the corners of Carver’s mouth twitched. He’d know that voice - and that language - anywhere. 

“Couldn’t the nug shitting ass have just sent it with you?” Isabela continued as Carver spotted her by the corner, standing with two shady looking men. 

“Look lady, I’m just the messenger,” one of them said. “You got a problem with it, you take it up with him.”

“Fucking ass,” she said, the dagger between her fingers glinting in the dim light of the rapidly setting sun. 

The men shrugged at her. 

“We’ve done our job,” the second man said. “Doesn’t matter if you’re not happy, we get paid anyway.” 

“Give me a moment” Carver said to the others as he stepped closer, the men giving him a nervous glance as they made their exit. “All good, Bela?”

“Bastard smuggler was meant to be paying me for a job I helped him with,” she said, glaring after their disappearing forms. “He was meant to be meeting me here but the poxy ass has decided he needs  _ me _ to go meet  _ him _ at the Docks instead. As if  _ that _ doesn’t sound like I’m walking into a trap.” 

“Garrett would go with you, I’m sure,” Carver said. That seemed to still be his brother’s thing. Helping people with their problems. But Isabela glanced at the ground instead. 

“Ah, yes,” she said. “He didn’t exactly approve of me doing this particular job.”

Carver raised an eyebrow at her, questioning. 

“What your brother doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” she said. “And nobody  _ got _ hurt.”

“I could come with you,” Carver suggested. It definitely sounded like a more appealing way to spend his evening, with the added bonus of doing something that’d potentially piss off his brother. And Isabela was always fun to spend time with. “Help you out even if it was a trap.”

Isabela hesitated for a moment as though reluctant to accept but she nodded. 

“Good to go now then, little Hawke?”

Carver rolled his eyes at the nickname but he was used to it by now. She’d called him that more and more since Varric had first started. With Isabela, it felt more like an affectionate nickname than just a comparison to his brother.

“You go in without me, I’m going to help her out instead,” he called to his friends, and they laughed. 

“I bet you will,” one yelled back to him with a vulgar hand gesture. Carver returned it with a rude one of his own. 

“Oh fuck off,” he yelled as they fell over themselves laughing. 

“More likely you than us,” one replied and his friend laughed again.

“Animals, the lot of them,” Carver muttered as he turned his back on them, just loud enough for Isabela and Isabela alone to hear. “I’m capable of helping a lady without taking my pants off.”

“They seem like fun,” she said, turning to wink back at them. “I’ll take care of him boys,” she told them, giving Carver a cheeky grin as his friends whistled. Carver just shook his head as they set off towards the Docks. 

“Don’t encourage them,” he told her. “They’ll never let me live it down.”

“They’re probably jealous,” she said. “Beautiful boy like you, gorgeous woman like me, off alone together, disappearing into the dark...” 

Carver snorted. 

“Beautiful, my ass. And it’s hardly dark yet.”

“Will be soon,” Isabela shrugged. “And I’m glad you agree. It  _ is _ a rather spectacular ass. Why do you think I’m walking back here?” 

“Probably trying to stop me looking at yours.” 

Isabela laughed, not answering as they made their way down the stairs towards the water. The sun was low, colouring the water with an eerie red light, one that felt almost ominous on the serious atmosphere of Kirkwall, the remaining light rapidly disappearing as night fell. 

“It’s nice to see you out of the official looking armour for once, little Hawke,” she said, finally breaking the silence. “Not that I don’t appreciate a man in uniform, but I have missed seeing those arms around.” 

Carver flexed a bicep at her with a laugh as they continued along the Docks, Isabela now by his side. Being with her felt familiar, comfortable, and he realised he’d missed walking with her since his time had been taken up with training rather than jobs with Hawke. Since he’d stopped spending time with his brother and the friends he chose to surround himself with. 

“Still compensating for something with that sword I see though,” Isabela added with a wink and that cheeky nod at the weapon strapped to Carver’s back. He knew it was probably overkill to bring it with but hey, it was Kirkwall. Who knew what would happen? 

“Get me out of the rest of this armour and you’ll find out there’s nothing to compensate for,” he said and he couldn’t help the slight sense of satisfaction as Isabela paused in shock at his words, eyebrows flew up in surprise at his words. 

“Is that an invitation, little Hawke?” 

Before Carver had a chance to answer, before he even had a chance to work out in his own mind what he had meant by the words, she was on her way again. As Carver watched her walk away, watched the sway of her hips as she moved, his mouth went dry as he realised that maybe really he wouldn’t mind Isabela getting him out of his armour. He’d imagined it before, more than a handful of times if he was being honest but… 

“You coming, little Hawke?” she called to him, looking back over her shoulder. “No point having you with me as my knight in shining armour to keep me safe if you’re all the way back there. Although, from experience, knights  _ out _ of shining armour are much more fun.” 

“I’m sure there’s a lot of experience there,” Carver said. He’d heard stories about Isabela’s past. Mostly from her. 

“It takes practice to be an good at something, little Hawke,” she replied, pushing her chest out in a clearly exaggerated way. “And I’m a veritable expert. Maybe one day you’ll have your own experience to compare.” 

“I’ve had no complaints from anyone so far,” Carver said, flexing his arm again and Isabela laughed. 

“Oh I’ve missed you,” she said, drawing to a halt. “We’re here, you’ll have to keep your expertise to yourself. Now, where is the lazy bastard?”

The actual payment went down very uneventfully, although Carver wondered if it may have been different had he not been there. The man seemed to take one nervous look at him - or probably more likely at the sword on his back and the muscles Isabela had been so recently admiring - and stepped back, holding out the coin Isabela was here to collect. 

Of course, if he thought Carver was a threat, he was probably underestimating Isabela. There was no way Carver would want to take on the pirate. He’d seen her take down too many men already, and with an ease that was almost startling. 

“Well, job done,” Isabela said, tucking the coin into the pouch at her belt when the pair of them were around the corner and alone once again. “And I didn’t even have to threaten anyone. How disappointing. I was almost hoping for a little excitement.”

She stopped and braced herself against the wall, one knee propped out in front of her as her foot rested against the brick. It made her dress slip dangerously low against her backside and Carver did his best not to look. Or at least to not seem obvious about it. 

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to make the night exciting,” he told her and Isabela smirked at him.

“Is that another invitation, little Hawke?” Her tone was lighthearted, teasing, but there was a hint of genuine question in her expression. Carver swallowed, trying to chase away the dryness in his mouth. 

“What if it is?” he said, shifting half a step closer, Isabela’s eyes on his face. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind a little excitement.” 

His heart was pounding in his chest, racing along with his thoughts. What if he had misread this? What if-

Before he had a chance to overthink any further, Isabela’s lips were on his, her body pressed against him, her hand tracing the curve of the muscle in his arm. He kissed her back, his own hands around her back, pulling her closer.

“I’d say that’s an invitation I’ll happily accept,” Isabela whispered against his lips. Her mouth moved to his neck, then along his jawline to his ear as Carver’s hands moved lower. Her breath caught as he pulled her hips closer against him and he smiled, satisfied, even as she teased a small noise from him, her mouth against his skin. 

“Should we take this back to your room?” Carver asked as she rolled her hips against him, his hands still holding her waist. He hoped he wasn’t being too forward, misreading this again, but he didn’t think Isabela would mind, not with the way her hand was doing its best to snake its way under his shirt and up his chest. And the idea of going back to Isabela’s room was definitely much more appealing than the other plans he’d had for the night in the downstairs of the tavern, alone or with the same recruits he spent every day with. 

“How do you feel about sneaking in past your brother?” Isabela asked him with a breathy laugh, still pressed against his chest, fingers creeping higher. Carver didn’t answer but his expression must have done it for him. “Thought so. Back to the Gallows then? I’m sure they give you recruits some nice sturdy beds.” She punctuated the last few words with tiny nips against the skin of his throat. 

Carver shook his head, trying to find the words as Isabela lifted her leg higher, wrapping it around his. The fabric of her dress slipped as she did, exposing more of her thigh and he traced the smooth skin with his fingers. 

“Shared rooms,” he said after a moment, trying to process that it was his hand now against her ass. This definitely wasn’t how he had anticipated his night going when he had walked out through the gates this evening. “Don’t fancy an audience of all the other recruits.” 

Isabela made a small thoughtful noise, returning to kiss him once again as her hips moved against Carver’s thigh. 

“Well I guess we’ll need to make this quick then,” she said. She moved her hips against his leg once more before she stepped back, taking Carver’s hand. Confused, he followed as she led him around the corner, understanding washing over him as she led him into the nearby alley.

It wasn’t the nicest place in Kirkwall, and he and Garrett had definitely threatened a few people there, especially in that first year in Kirkwall but… Carver wasn’t sure he really cared, not with Isabela’s hand in his. It was somewhere private, or at least more private than the street and that - and Isabela - were all he cared about right now. 

She turned to look at him, her eyes dark as her tongue licked her lips, and before she could say anything her face was in his hands, their lips together again. Her hand pressed on his chest, pushing him back against the wall with a thud that knocked some of the air from his lungs. He didn’t care. 

He wanted to think about this, about what they were doing, about the fact that this was Isabela and he was kissing her, that she was kissing him, but all he could focus on was how she felt against him as her lips moved against his and their hands explored. Isabela was soft against him, the wall a contrasting solid against his back, making her feel even softer as Carver’s hands pulled at the bodice of her dress. 

“Tell me if you want to stop,” she said breathlessly, her fingers fumbling with the tie at Carver’s waist. 

“Don’t,” he told her as her teeth grazed his jaw and he hoped he’d never forget the noise that came from her mouth as he tightened his grip. He wanted to hold onto the moment, to remember as much as he could but all that mattered was Isabela against him, the way she moved and felt and sounded, and the way she made him feel as her hand slipped under his waistband. He wanted to remember the noise she made as he did the same, the way she moved against his fingers. 

She had said they’d need to be quick and they were, Carver spilling into Isabela’s hand as she shuddered against him, hands in each others’ smalls, kissing the other as though it was the last thing they’d be able to do, as though nothing else mattered.

“I don’t think I can call you  _ little _ Hawke anymore,” she said, her forehead resting against his chest as they both tried to catch their breath. “I didn’t know you were such fun. What  _ would _ our dear friend Aveline say if she saw you doing such debaucherous things on her streets?”

Carver snorted. 

“Like I’d give a shit what she thinks,” he said and Isabela laughed, a breathy noise that wasn’t quite her normal laugh. He liked the sound. It sounded like Isabela but like a new side to her, and that was something he definitely felt like he’d learnt tonight. “And like you can talk, who was it that dragged us in here?” 

“What can I say, I know what I want,” she said. Her breath was warm against his skin as her teeth grazed his ear and Carver’s knees went weak again as he found himself wondering if maybe it  _ would _ be worth trying to make his way unnoticed into the upstairs of the Hanged Man tonight. After all, Garrett wasn’t that observant, right?

A slight pang of uncertainty, regret, washed over him. This  _ had _ been fun but was it a mistake? Isabela was his friend, his brother’s friend. What would Garrett think? Would he be mad at them? Betrayed? Even angrier at Carver than he still already was? 

Carver could tell himself he didn’t care what Garrett thought, especially right now, but he knew it wasn’t true.

“Are you ok, Carver?” Isabela asked, stepping back to give him some space. She adjusted her dress, smoothing down the fabric. “You have that...look on your face. That one where you're thinking too much about things that aren’t particularly fun and I know I have some very fun thoughts.” 

“I was just wondering if that was a mistake,” he admitted, wincing when he saw the brief flash of… something across Isabela’s face. “I enjoyed it though! I don’t regret doing it,” he added quickly, hastily trying to reassure her, chase away whatever doubt he’d just planted. He always had talked too much without thinking, caused problems for himself or for others. From the look Isabela was giving him, he suspected she was thinking the same thing, although it didn’t appear to be an entirely disapproving expression. 

“I enjoyed it,” he repeated. Was enjoyed the right word? An understatement, perhaps? It was definitely something he’d be thinking about, remembering, for some time into the future.

“Most people do,” she said with a wink. “I’ve been told I have extraordinarily talented fingers.” 

“Yeah,” he said, hoping the grin on his face wasn’t too dopey looking. He knew it wasn’t a proper answer but he wasn’t the best with words anyway, and his mind was still a little fuzzy. “But… you’re Hawke’s friend. You’re  _ my _ friend. I don’t want things to be complicated. They’re already complicated with Hawke. So I feel like maybe… maybe we shouldn’t do anything like that again.”

Even as he said it, he found himself wondering what it  _ would _ be like to do it again. Maybe even somewhere else, somewhere with less risk of being caught, somewhere they could take their time, explore properly, fully appreciate the skills Isabela loved to boast about… Surely her fingers weren’t the only thing that were extraordinarily talented. 

He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry again, something stirring low in his gut again. 

He hoped he wasn’t being presumptuous in thinking Isabela might want to do this again in the first place. 

“Understandable. I have a lot of experience avoiding  _ complicated _ .” Isabela finished adjusting her dress, tightening the laces that held her breasts in place. Carver found his eyes watching her hands as they moved, trying unsuccessfully not to look at her chest. “Now are you coming back to join your fellow recruits? Assuming they haven’t been chased out of the place by now, the patrons aren’t always the most welcoming to you Templars.”

“I’ve noticed,” Carver said. It was a lighthearted comment but not entirely joking. He’d seen the way they looked at him, Garrett, Anders, some of the other patrons. He couldn’t say he entirely blamed them. 

He shifted, adjusting his pants, suddenly noticing he was a little uncomfortable from the remnants of their earlier activities.

“I should go home, I think. Clean up. And if Garrett will be there, then I don’t really want to deal with him, not today.” 

He knew he needed to one day. One of them needed to make the effort but Garrett was probably too stubborn to, possibly even too stubborn to accept the gesture if Carver even tried. Isabela shrugged, adjusting the scarf around her hair. Carver had left it slightly askew. 

“I guess I’ll see you later then, Carver. Thanks for tonight. It’s been fun.”

Isabela winked as she turned to leave, stepping back out towards the docks, out of the alleyway. 

“Bela, wait,” Carver said, stepping towards her. His hand grabbed her wrist, pulling her back towards him. “Probably a mistake,” he said, more to himself than to her, and his lips were on hers again. She curved into him, her body fitting perfectly against his, warm and soft. Her hands crept higher, following the shape or his chest before her released her, stepping back. 

“I must say, I’m a fan of this side of you Carver,” she said, a little out of breath. “Very bold.” 

Carver shrugged, his cheeks slightly flushed. 

“We… we should go,” he said. “I… thank you, Isabela.” 

“Any time,” she said with a wink, turning back towards the main street through the docks. “Of course, I do happen to know that Hawke is going out of town in two days,” she called over her shoulder. “Should be gone for almost a week, based on the most recent planning, but he’s leaving me behind this time.” 

“Good to know,” he told her. Isabela winked and blew him a kiss before she turned to continue along her path. Carver watched her go, his eyes fixed on the sway of her hips. His fingers tightened, gripping the fabric of his trousers as he tried not to think about how nicely those hips had fitted in his hands. 

She paused again, moments before disappearing out of view around the corner, looking over her shoulder once again. 

“To be clear, Carver,” she called back to him, “if you’re interested, that  _ is _ an invitation.” 

And as much as Carver tried to tell himself it would be a bad idea, he knew it was an invitation he would be accepting. 

**Author's Note:**

> And theeeen Carver accepts the invitation and they sleep together a bunch more times while slowly falling in love and both refusing to accept and or acknowledge it 😘♥️  
> This whole fic felt like it was Carver and Isabela insisting we’re going to have sex against a wall now <3 and me trying to work out how to balance that with what I was comfortable writing 😂
> 
> For context probably nobody asked for, Carver and Hawke love each other very much but at this point, they have a lot of unresolved feelings and issues around their own traumas and around decisions made (specifically Hawke’s decision to leave Carver off the expedition and Carver’s decision to join the Templars) so they’re relationship isn’t in the best place. I also hc they have a huge fight about it prior to this fic where a lot of super hurtful, angry things are said, magical and/or Templar abilities are used on each other, and they have Not resolved that yet. That ended up being more relevant to this than I planned ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ They will fix their relationship buuuut they’re not there yet.


End file.
